


Wrong Side of Heaven

by BeautifulCreature



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Depression, Domestic Avengers, Fever, Foreshadowing, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Mental Breakdown, Nightmares, Post-Iron Man 3, Post-The Avengers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sickfic, implied suicidal thoughts, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-26 21:51:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7591711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeautifulCreature/pseuds/BeautifulCreature
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since Steve Rogers was removed from the ice, he has been plagued by a deep depression. Nightmares, flashbacks, and suicidal feelings have controlled his life and he is quickly losing the last bits of control he has over himself. Along with other members of the team, Tony Stark realizes that something is wrong and wants to help. Unfortunately, it won't be easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wrong Side of Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. :) 
> 
> I wrote this a couple weeks ago as a trade story for someone and ended up falling in love with it. I decided to share it with the rest of you, since this is on another website and the guidelines are not the same for the story here. If you are triggered by depression and PTSD, please do not read this. It is meant to be very dark and not answer certain questions the way the MCU does. Having said that, I hope you enjoy this.

Winter reminded Steve of many things: freezing temperatures, snow, and the horrible effects of being poor. When he was young the Great Depression was destroying major cities, such as Brooklyn where he resided. This unfortunate event left him and his mother desperate for enough money to survive. When his mother passed from pneumonia only years after, his best friend Bucky felt responsible to care for him. Together they just managed to make enough money to survive, though most of the income was due to Bucky working at the docks.

Steve didn’t have the luxury to works hours every day. His compromised immune system led to nearly constant colds, flus, and any other virus that decided to enter his body. A portion of Bucky’s income went to buying Steve medicine and any other supplies needed. The worst of it, though, was during the winter months. Brooklyn would become freezing, blanketed with a fine layer of snow. Steve’s body couldn’t produce enough heat to keep him warm; therefore Bucky had to wrap himself around the smaller man in hopes of raising his body temperature.

When the war began and Bucky volunteered himself to fight Steve truly felt weak. Not only was he too small but his immune system would never survive fighting a war, especially with asthma. It wasn’t until someone finally gave him a chance that he believed he wasn’t as weak as everyone thought. He quickly noticed that everyone was much stronger than he was, at least until the super soldier serum. Steve knew the serum could tremendously improve his size, strength, and immune system among other things. The result ended up being much more than he originally thought, whether good or bad.

***

Steve Rogers never thought that he would contract a cold virus after the serum was injected. From what he remembers he was told that the serum made him immune to all viruses. Apparently the serum only made him immune to the viruses that wandered around in the 1940s. Doctor Erskine couldn’t have predicted the different viruses that would spread around New York City in 2013, let alone know that Steve would survive during that year.

He didn’t think much of it when he began sneezing a few times more than normal earlier that week. Being close friends with the well-known Tony Stark allowed different particles to enter his room, resulting in irritated sinuses. Steve simply believed that the serum couldn’t protect against irritants in the air, which he didn’t think it could in the first place. He didn’t mind a few sneezes—it was better than constantly contracting viruses and suffering frequent asthma attacks.

The other members of his team soon noticed that something was wrong when exhaustion seeped into his bones. Suspicion began when Steve was found sleeping later than usual, rather than waking for a morning run. This was a rare occurrence that only happened when he had spent the night on a mission instead of sleeping. On normal days Steve had come back from his run before most of the Tower’s occupants even stirred.

A second reason for suspicion surfaced when Steve was unable to sit through a briefing without losing concentration. Everyone knew that he paid close attention to the details of a mission, even when the details weren’t necessary. The words seemed to fade into nothingness as Steve stared at the table, concentrated on something entirely different. Natasha made eye contact with Clint, gesturing to Steve with a concerned expression. She nudged him, watching as he responded immediately.

“Are you okay?” she asked quietly.

“I’m fine.” He cleared his throat, once again paying attention to the briefing.

*

The third reason for suspicion surfaced when Steve couldn’t prevent the others from witnessing his frequent sneezing, coughing, and sniffling. It wasn’t that they purposely listened for them but more that his sneezes were too loud to go unnoticed. Stifling didn’t help much, either. The action only made a horribly painful noise, resulting in some concerned glances from his teammates. Not only did stifling produce painful sounds but it also worsened the heavy congestion within his sinuses.

No one dared to say anything to the leader, fearing they would be scolded in return. Well, not everyone followed that. Tony was the first and last person to mention the Captain’s progressive symptoms:

“Hey Cap, are you feeling all right?”

Steve knew someone was going to ask him. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look or sound fine.”

The exhaustion made him quite irritable, “I said I’m fine, Stark.”

Tony slowly raised his hands in defense. “I didn’t mean to offend you.” After one—admittedly weak—glare, he walked away with the intent of finding a way to help his friend.

***

“Huh- _ESSSHH’uh_!” Steve attempted (and failed) to muffle another sneeze into his sleeve. He groaned quietly as his throat burned with the effects of the violent sneeze. This was one moment where he wished his responsibilities would vanish, allowing him to sleep through most of the day.

“Bless you.”

He looked up in confusion at the man standing before him. The blessing wasn’t surprising considering he had heard it multiple times already that day. What was more surprising was the person who offered said blessing. Steve had known Tony long enough to notice that he didn’t bless others much. Then why did he?

“Excuse me,” he cleared his throat, averting his attention back to the file on the table.

“…I know you didn’t appreciate me asking yesterday, but are you feeling all right?”

Why do you want to know? Steve thought. “Once again, I’m fine.”

“You sound even worse than yesterday, if that’s possible.” Of course he wouldn’t ignore the blond.

Steve sighed, “Of all people, why do you care?”

“You’re my friend.” he answered, disregarding the emphasis of his question.

“It’s just a cold, nothing I can’t work with.”

“If I didn’t feel bad for you I wouldn’t be near you.” Tony admitted.

Steve remembered the brunette’s obvious germophobia. “Oh, I wasn’t aware that actually felt something for others.” He wasn’t known for being particularly snarky but he didn’t have the patience for Tony’s remarks.

He rolled his eyes, “Thanks. Suit yourself, then.”

“Stark—” Before he could finish the other man had already exited the room.

***

The dreams are always the same: a simple mission to fight against HYDRA goes horribly wrong when Bucky Barnes loses his grip, falling off the train to his demise. Steve always wakes with a gasp, eyes flickering around the room in search of his surroundings. This pattern continues every night until he can no longer take it and vanishes into the training room for hours. Sometimes he doesn’t sleep for days in a row hoping that he will be too tired to dream when he does sleep.

That’s another thing winter reminds him of: Bucky. Winter resembles the nothingness he feels in his heart, as well as the season Bucky passed. When he’s not sleeping the memories haunt him, presenting themselves as flashbacks. Steve engrosses himself in his work, praying that it will prevent the memories from flooding into his mind. Most days it doesn’t work but he still tries.

While Bucky was alive he meant everything to Steve. The two would spend most of their time together, going for drinks and even lounging around. Steve wouldn’t have survived the amount of time he did without Bucky protecting him, physically and emotionally. Bucky did everything for Steve no matter how difficult. They truly were best friends through everything, especially after the serum when there were constant targets placed on them.

Steve spends another night in the training room, desperately attempting to rid his mind of Bucky’s demise.

***

He doesn’t return to his room until the early hours of morning. Steve dismisses his original plans of sleeping when he sees the hue of gold outside. Lying in bed will have to do, Steve thinks. The blond does just that for hours, wrapped in the covers to conserve heat. New York City is freezing during the winter and Steve doesn’t like the cold. Despite the warmth of the covers, he still shivers every few minutes.

Steve must have fallen asleep some time during this because the next thing he notices is the knock on his door. He slowly opens his eyes, blinking away the bleariness of his vision. “Who’s there?” Steve cringes at the heavy congestion laced within his voice.

“Is everything all right in there?” He recognizes the voice as Tony’s. _Why_ _wouldn’t_ _everything_ _be_ _all_ _right_? Pushing himself into a sitting position, he glances at the digital clock beside him. Bright numbers read 11:30 AM. _Oh_ _no_. “Are you there, Cap?”

Steve sniffles thickly, “I’m up…”

There’s a long pause. “Can I come in?”

“I’m really—Huh- _ **ESSSHH’uh**_!...” He interrupts himself with a weary sneeze, unable to cover in time. “I’m really fine.”

The door clicks, opening slowly. “We both know you aren’t fine.”

Steve brushes a hand through his disheveled hair when he sees the brunette. “What do you need?”

“I came to check on you.” he answers. “The others were worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Have you ever slept this long since being here?”

Steve sighs, “No, I haven’t.”

“Exactly. Do you want me to announce you’re staying in bed?”

His teammates seemed very suspicious of his actions during the previous days. Steve figures that Natasha caught on first and informed the others. “No, no, I’m fine.” He assures, forcing his aching limbs to stand. As soon as he does, a wave of dizziness comes over him. He sways, closing his eyes in sudden urgency.

Tony rushes over, steadying the blond. He eases Steve into a sitting position. “Be careful,”

Steve desperately wants to give up. He wants to sleep for hours without a nightmare. He wants everything to go back to normal, how it was with Bucky. Most of all, he wants Bucky to hold him in a warm embrace and murmur gentle words. The emotions bubble up inside of him; tears threaten to spill over.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” he repeats the words, a lump in his throat as the bottled up emotions release. Steve inhales shakily, salty tears streaming down his face. He hasn’t cried in so long that he almost forgets how to until a sob shakes his upper body. “I’m s-so sorry,” Steve chokes out, burying his head in his hands.

Tony’s eyes widen as he watches the other man break down. He has never seen the Captain display such emotions, if any at all. Describing him as surprised would be an understatement. Within all the years of his life he has never had to comfort anyone, especially never his (technical) superior. Tony places his hand against Steve’s back, rubbing in circular motions. “Hey, hey… Don’t cry,” It’s an odd position for him but he can’t just stand and watch.

Steve thinks about his last moments with Bucky on the train. One minute he’s joking around with the brunette, reminiscing about their past; the next he’s watching Bucky fall into the depths of the mountains. He thinks that he could’ve done more to save him. If he had moved closer to the other man, he could’ve grabbed his hand and pulled him to safety. Everything that happened to him is your fault. You cared about yourself for one minute and now he’s gone forever. You failed. The voice inside his head grows louder, hissing at him.

“Let everything out,” Tony softens his voice. When Steve inhales a deep breath, he thinks the blond may be calming down until he sneezes.

“Huh- _ESSSHH_! …Huh- _ **ESSSSHH’uh**_!”

“Bless you,”

Steve can barely hear the other man through his loud sobs. The emotions had been building since Bucky’s death, and he ignored them. Somewhere within his mind he believed they could go away if he didn’t acknowledge them, but deep down he knew they would resurface one day. All he wants now is for them to stop.

After another ten minutes, they do. Steve removes his face from his hands, wiping away stray tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice hoarse and overused.

“Don’t apologize.” Tony tells him. For once he actually means it.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“I doubt you meant to have a breakdown.”

“You shouldn’t have seen that.” Steve’s vibranium walls build themselves up again.

“Really, it’s fine.” Tony assures him. “Besides, it seemed like you needed it.”

“I don’t need—”

“Things will get better.”

Steve had never considered the possibility of things becoming better. He thought the memories would always haunt him, nightmares waking him every night. Everyone always said accepting death would become easier after a few years. What if allowing himself to feel was part of healing? He would never know.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just as a little note, this work is titled after the song by Five Finger Death Punch that has the same name.


End file.
